Looping Track
by crimson-obsidian-rose
Summary: Those who do not learn from history, are doomed to repeated it. The Roman Empire, The Ottoman Empire.


Another short fic; I'm sorry. I hadn't realized I never posted these fics up here. This was also done for Hetalia_contest a few weeks ago, the prompt being "world is mine."

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Hetalia

**

* * *

**

Looping Track

The public bathhouse was empty at that time of morning, too early for the people of Rome to be up and about, much less bathing, so he knew that this was the perfect chance to take his son out and get them both cleaned up.

The boy was just a toddler, one who could barely stand on his own two feet without wobbling and threatening to fall, although that might have been because he was more used to walking on sands, soft, forgiving loose earth, than the paved _via_ of Rome. The elder held his hand as they walked down the empty street, and into the bathhouse. Rome helped the tiny boy out of his white garments, and took off his own armor (which he never left home without), before they went into the water.

The tiny child was fascinated by everything, amber eyes that were the mirror of his mother's wide and darting all over, taking everything in. Rome watched him in amusement, his thoughts wandering to the boy and his mother. Or, the woman who called herself his mother; to this day, Aegyptus refused to say as to whether she birthed Gupta or found him, stating simply that it did not matter because he was her son, and she loved him as ferociously as any mother would. It was that hidden determination, that tenderness and love and mystique about her that made Rome fall in love. That made him had to possess her. And so, he did.

Soon Rome felt chubby baby fingers run over his chest, and looked down to find that his scarred body had stolen the infant Aegyptian's attention. Curious amber eyes were taking the gashes in with such a serious intensity, as his hands continued to glide over the cuts.

Rome chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair and causing him to look up into smiling brown eyes.

"These are the marks of a warrior, boy," the elder started with a twinkle in his eye, "each one a conquest for Rome."

Taking the boy's tiny hand in his own much larger one, he began to point them, "Sicilia, Corsica, Gallia, Hispania…," guiding little fingers to a different gash, scar, or bruise with each name.

The young Egypt's eyes followed with intense focus, taking in every detail.

"If you're going to be a strong nation someday, Gupta, you're going to need some scars of your own."

While Gupta got distracted again splashing in the water, Rome set about washing his son, thinking that it was better he didn't mention that the first scar would have to come from him.

Rome fell. Never did Egypt (not Aegyptus, never again would Aegyptus exist) think he would see the day when his parents and aunts and uncles and all his elders would fall. They were supposed to be forever, like the columns supporting the Parthenon, or the Great Pyramids of Giza, or the Coliseum in Rome...

But they were gone.

* * *

Sadiq was arrogant, cocky, and had a conqueror's grin; all things that tugged at Egypt's memory, all things he'd seen before. The mannerisms with which the Ottoman Empire moved was far too reminiscent to Rome for the Egyptian's liking, but he said nothing about it, keeping a pitying gaze hidden behind blank eyes.

He kept silent at all times in the Ottoman's house, keeping warnings of downfall and words of caution in his mind. And when the rebellions started, and Greece was trying to fight his way to freedom and Sadiq simply _laughed_, Egypt stood off to the side and shook his head. He was going to help the Ottomans, at his boss' command, but if Egypt knew anything about his 'brother' it was that Greece was not going to give up.

Sadiq was fuming. Any sane person would have fled the room right then and there, at the livid aura coming off the Turk in waves, but Egypt was probably far from sane at this point. Wondering if he should say something to calm Sadiq down, and weighing it against the fact that he'd come this far without saying anything, he was taken aback when his lips were suddenly seized by Sadiq's. The kiss was rough, violent, and definitely possessive, not passionate, but Egypt let it happen, not even attempting resistance. Yet.

Years later, when King Muhammad Ali would take Egypt back out of Ottoman control (and only to have him later become a British protectorate), Gupta would keep his eyes on the Ottoman Empire with a feeling of 'You should have seen this coming.' And even later, when Ottoman was no more and it was just Turkey, just Sadiq, Egypt felt that he should be grateful to even still be around.

After all, those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

_End._

_

* * *

_

Once again, I'm kindly asking you all to leave a review with any questions/comments/constructive criticisms.

I hope you all enjoyed!!!

crimson-obsidian-rose


End file.
